


Queen Anne's Revenge

by CelinaCorey



Category: The Tudors, The Tudors (TV) RPF
Genre: Complete, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-01
Updated: 2013-02-09
Packaged: 2017-11-24 03:08:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 7,505
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/629684
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CelinaCorey/pseuds/CelinaCorey
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Elizabeth shall be a greater queen than any king of yours. She shall rule a greater England than you could ever have built! Yes! MY Elizabeth shall be Queen, and my blood will have been well spent." -Queen Anne Boleyn from 'Anne of the Thousand Days.'</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Part I: Death

**Author's Note:**

> This is the result of an idea that popped in my head one day while watching the Tudors. Some parts are largely influenced by conversations I've held with a friend of mine concerning Anne and Elizabeth. There are a lot of scenes borrowed from the Tudors and Elizabeth, as well as Elizabeth: the Golden Age. I really hope you enjoy this.

" _To everything there is a season and a time to every purpose under heaven. A time to be born, and a time to die. A time to plant, and a time to pluck up that which is planted. A time to weep, and a time to laugh. A time to cast away stones, and a time to gather stones together. A time to mourn, and a time to dance. That which hath been is now. And that which is to be has already been. A time to get, and a time to lose. A time to keep, and a time to cast away. A time to rend, and a time to sew. A time to keep silence, and a time to speak. I said in my heart, God shall judge the righteous and the wicked, for there is a time for every purpose under the sun."_  
-Queen Anne's Almoner  
-the Tudors

"Madam, the hour approaches, you must make ready."

So, it was time, then? It was time for her to go to her death, to rid her husband of loving - but no longer wanted wife. It was strange, ironic even, that things had come to this. Anne turned to face Master Kingston slowly, taking a composing breath before saying, "Acquit yourself of your charge, for I have been long prepared."

She was not lying; it was true that she was ready for death, that she welcomed it. Her last days had not been kind to her and Anne rather liked the idea of being rid of her pain. The only grievance that remained was that her daughter Elizabeth should have to reach her prime without a mother. Her daughter was likely to never become the Queen of England, as was her birthright, simply because her father had tired of her mother and wished to take a new bride.

" _He will tire of you, like all the others._ "

When the late Princess Dowager had told Anne this, she had not believed her. Henry loved her, he wanted to marry her; what cause should he have to tire of her? But now Anne knew what a fool she had been; Henry didn't love, he lusted. The only thing that Henry loved, aside from himself, was the touch of a woman. He could convince himself otherwise, but the whole world knew and now, after nearly a decade of ignorance, so did Anne.

This painful realization should have made her love him less but, to her extreme displeasure, it did not.

"The King asks that you take this purse," Master Kingston said, holding a small, leather satchel for her to take. "It has twenty pounds in it, to pay the headsman for his services and distribute alms to the poor."

Anne covered the little distance between them and said, with little thought to her words or actions, "Thank you."

Master Kingston did not seemed enthused about his duty, but nonetheless commanded in an inquisitive manner, "Will you and your ladies follow me?"

She turned to her Almoner and nodded, silently signaling for him to go ahead of her. Turning the other direction, she received a Bible that one of her ladies had been holding for her, which would be handed to her Almoner whilst on the scaffold. And then, together, they exited the chambers that had been her prison in her last weeks - she was glad to be rid of them. Master Kingston led her through the familiar corridors and out into Tower Green. It was a quiet, solemn walk, not a person daring to speak for fear of offending her or disrupting the peace she seemed to possess. In her head, Anne was going over the speech she had rehearsed over and over, even before she had learned of her fate, to make sure she had it absolutely perfect. If she was to die, she would do so with the utmost composure and grace. She would not embarrass herself, or her family, any more than she already had. She would say nothing against the King, for doing so was likely to put consequence on her daughter and she could not allow that to happen.

They exited the Tower and instantly Anne's ears were flooded with noise. It was as deafening sound, the sound of many voices collaborating to form one annoying buzz that made Anne increasingly uncomfortable. What if she faltered, or fainted? Sighing deeply, she walked up the steps leading into the Tower Green. Many people were gathered to watch her death, shouting in their anticipation. As she walked through the crowd, some looked on with pity and bid God to bless her, while others stared with emotionless faces, as if they were afraid to let their true opinions be known lest they be condemned as well. Some made the figure of the cross before them, reaching out to touch her gown. It seemed ironic to her that the people who had refused to acknowledge her as their Queen had become sympathetic, supportive even, of her in the hour of her death.

When she finally reached the scaffold, she paused at the bottom of the steps, almost succumbing to the temptation of running, grabbing Elizabeth, and escaping to France, but she knew she'd never make it and that no good would come from it if she made an attempt. Henry was likely to order the executions of both her and her daughter; he had a knack for being unforgiving like that.

And so she climbed the steps that led to the scaffold, to her death.

It amused her that the first thing she should notice upon standing on the scaffold, able to see crowd gathered in the Green, was the Duke of Suffolk, Charles Brandon, and his son Edward. It was just like Henry to order his friend to attend his wife's execution. Suffolk had never liked her and would report every word Anne said to His Majesty, no doubt. _Well, I shan't give him much complaint!_ she thought to herself, knowing the words she had prepared to say would not provide evidence to condemn any more innocent people in her name.

"Master Kingston, I pray you not give the signal for my death until I have spoken what I have in mind to speak," she requested, turning to face her jailor with such an earnestly that he would not deny her.

He inclined his head, granting her wish, "Madam."

Without saying another word, she turned to face the crowd once more, stepping forward slightly, and waited for the idle murmurs to dissolve into silence. And then she spoke.

"Good Christian people, I have come here to die according to the law and thus yield myself to the will of the King, My Lord. And if, in my life, I ever did offend the King's Grace, surely with my death I do now atone. I pray and beseech you all to pray for the life of the King, my Sovereign Lord and yours, who is one of the best Princes on the face of the Earth, who has always treated me so well. Wherefore I submit to death for the goodwill, humbly asking pardon of all the world. If anyone should take up my case, I ask them only to judge it kindly. "

She turned back to her ladies, who then stepped forward to help remove her jewelry and other items that would hinder the swordsman. When they finished removing her effects and placing a coif carefully upon her head, she thanked her ladies and they exited the scaffold, each one in tears. The headsman approached her with careful steps, kneeling on the scaffold beside her.

"Madame, forgive me for what I must do."

Though she knew that, out of courtesy, he was required to say this her, Anne felt in her heart that this man begging her forgiveness truly meant his words. It was apparent that he did not relish in the thought of ending the life of a Queen.

Kindly, but solemnly she responded, "Gladly. And here is your purse."

She stretched her arm down to him, handing him the satchel that Master Kingston had given her in her chambers. He received it, motioning for her to kneel before the crowd and stuffing the satchel in his boot.

She returned her attention to now the quiet and somber crowd, and finished, "Thus I take my leave of the world and of you, and I heartily desire you all to pray for me."

It warmed her heart to the smallest degree to hear some murmurs of blessing throughout the crowd, half-hearted though they may be. Kneeling, she took a deep, long breath, closed her eyes, and began to pray, "Lord Jesus receive my soul. O Lord God have pity on my soul. To Christ I commend my soul. Jesus Christ receive my soul. O Lord God have pity on my soul…"

She felt the footsteps of the swordsman and she prepared herself for the blow she knew would come, but was surprised when she felt the swordsman's hand gently brush against her forehead, pushing loose hair under her coif.

Feeling the need to say something, she turned to him and said, "Thank you."

Anne continued praying, but found herself unable to close her eyes and avoid seeing the sword come at her. She found it strange that she would be incapable of doing so, that she would apparently rather see her death before it struck. She tried to continue with her prayers, but she was finding herself increasingly anxious and uncomfortable. No matter how hard she tried, she could not bring herself to not look at the swordsman.

"Boy! Fetch my sword!"

The sudden voice jolted Anne from her concentration and instantly her head jerked in the direction of the boy who supposedly had the sword. Birds taking flight above distracted her and she watched on with amazement at such a sight, no matter how simple. And then she felt nothing, only peace.


	2. Part II: Messages

_"But Elizabeth was yours. Watch her as she grows. She's yours - she's a Tudor! Get yourself a son on that sweet, pale girl if you can and hope that it will live, but Elizabeth shall reign after you. Yes! Elizabeth, child of Anne the whore and Henry the blood-stained lecher, shall be Queen! …And think of this, Henry: Elizabeth shall be a greater queen than any king of yours. She shall rule a greater England than you could ever have built. Yes! My Elizabeth shall be Queen, and my blood will have been well spent."  
-Queen Anne Boleyn  
-Anne of the Thousand Days_

Death was a strange experience, so bizarre that Anne was convinced that even if she had access to an infinite number of ways of thought she would never be able to explain it. At first, she knew only peace and in the initial wave of tranquility she felt sure that she had not died, that the executioner had not done his deed. _Perhaps Henry has intervened on my behalf? she remembered thinking. Perhaps, for the sake of our daughter and the love we once knew, he has decided I'm to go to a nunnery instead? Is he at last showing mercy?_ She knew at the time she was only having such thoughts because those were the thoughts she wished to have, but she could not bring herself to not think them. So lost in her silent musings, Anne had still not opened her eyes.

"You may rise, Lady Anne."

Two things occurred to her all at once. Firstly, she was stilling kneeling as she had been before the sword had hit her, if it even had; and, secondly, the accented voice that had spoken was certainly the last that she had expected to hear, whether she still be alive or not. Daringly, she opened her eyes and what she saw was enough to make her heart drop into her stomach. Standing before her, in the regal composure that she always seemed to possess, was Katherine of Aragon, Princess Dowager of Wales. She appeared to be much younger than she was the day of her death, and certainly had regained her youthful beauty. Apparently, in death, one regained the looks they possessed in their prime. Anne stared at her in trepidation, hardly bemused that she should spend her afterlife with the woman she'd shared a mutual hatred with for so long. For a brief moment, she allowed herself the dramatic thought that she was in Hell.

"Lady Anne, has death proved detrimental to your hearing? I said you may rise," the Princess Dowager reiterated haughtily. Anne flickered a glare in her direction, partially bemused that in death Katherine had finally obtained some wit, and slowly stood to be level with the Spanish Princess.

Anne smirked, retaliating, "My hearing remains just as efficient as it was the day of my birth, but I see death has done nothing for your stubbornness. I should hardly think a Princess would have the authority to give orders to a Queen."

"Your marriage to the King was annulled, was it not, Lady Anne?"

At first, Anne was a bit shocked by Katherine's comment, but she did not let it show. "The annulment was unwarranted; I remain the King's wife."

Katherine raised an eyebrow, smirking slightly, "It is ironic that your fate should be similar to my own. Tell me, did you not realise that in usurping _my_ throne, you cleared a path for other women to do the same to you?"

"I did not usurp _your_ throne. It was never yours to claim. You were not his wife!"

"Oh, yes! I seem to have forgotten you seduced _my_ husband into believing my marriage to his brother was consummated and I was not a true maid when he first came to my bed!"

Anne laughed, knowing full and well that she'd caught the stubborn Princess in a lie. "Save your breath, _Your Highness_." she retorted, refusing to call Katherine by a queen's title. "I saw the blood-stained sheets with my own eyes! Lying will do you no good now."

Katherine seemed to be at a loss for words. She shut her eyes, her lips forming a thin line. Finally, she seemed to be able to speak, "Go! Leave me!"

"I will not! You haven't the authority to send me away! You're a Princess, I'm a Que - "

"You are not a Queen! Your marriage to the King was annulled, and you are nothing more than a Marquess! You _will_ leave me, Lady Pembroke," the Princess Dowager shouted, interrupting her before she could finish her statement.

"You were never truly the Queen of England," Anne said flatly.

"And neither were you, apparently."

Utterly angry, Anne stormed off without another word.

* * *

Throughout her afterlife, Anne kept watch over her daughter from the heavens. She watched her grow and develop into a young woman, and even watched as her daughter proclaimed that she would never marry. It was difficult to watch her daughter grow into a beautiful young woman and not be able to touch or guide. But finally - finally! - she was able to see her daughter, touch her daughter and praise her in front of her father, even if the visage of Elizabeth was not Elizabeth in the flesh, but a vision comprised by God's powers to present a form of judgment to the lion who had learned too much power, too much strength.

Henry had been preparing a tonic for himself to drink - to prolong his life, no doubt - when she appeared. He did not even seem shocked by her arrival, it was almost as if he had been expecting her.

"Why are you here?"

His voice showed that he had aged greatly since the last time they'd spoken, the last time they'd been face to face. She'd had Elizabeth with her then, and she was pleading with him for another chance - a chance she was never granted. She would now, if asked, openly admit that she had hoped bringing Elizabeth with her to plead with Henry would sway his heart back to her and their daughter, though she had known then that the chances of Henry changing his mind were scarce. Thinking back to that day, she became uncomfortably nervous and almost found herself unable to give her message.

Despite the anxiety that was building within her, Anne responded calmly, "To see my daughter. She was the only pure thing in my life and in my life I neglected her, since she was only a girl and I wanted so much to give you a son. But now I am so proud of her. Fiercely proud! She is so clever."

Elizabeth appeared at her side then, and Anne gestured to her daughter, her metaphorical heart quickening in her chest. She was so beautiful, possessing a kind of angelic beauty that Anne had never seen before. Elizabeth was undeniably the daughter of Henry Tudor and Anne Boleyn, the daughter of the lion and the falcon.

"And though she is like me in so many ways, she is not intemperate as I was. You must be proud of her too, Henry," she continued, her blue eyes baring deep into his soul, forcing an honest answer.

It pained him to admit it, she could tell, but he agreed, "I am. I am very proud of her. And I know how clever she is, and I wish that I could love her more. But from time to time, she reminds me of you - "

Henry looked at her then and she could easily see that life had been cruel to his aging and that he had not the pleasure of aging gracefully. Without delay, he continued, " - and of what you did to me."

Anne's demeanor was broken then as she became angry over his last words and she began to approach him quickly. Her tone displaying the hurt she felt from the fact that he would dare accuse her of actually betraying him all those years ago, she responded, "I did nothing to you. I was innocent. All the accusations against me were false."

Then she became sombre and said, "I thought you knew." She thought of her cousin who had been also charged with adultery but, unlike Anne, was actually guilty, and continued, "Poor Katherine Howard. She lies in the cold ground next to me. Poor child; it was not her fault either, but we were like two moths drawn to the flame…and burned."

She turned away from him, her message complete, and giving him a sad smile, her gaze settled on her daughter for one final time. She barely even heard him beg her to stay, "Anne, please don't!"


	3. Part III: Happiness

"… _It's a shame her Mom can't be here now, to see her lovely smile…As the rain starts coming down…she says, "I know Mama's watching now, and there's holes in the floor of heaven and her tears are pouring down. That's how you know she's watching, wishing she could be here now. And sometimes when I'm lonely, I remember she can see. Yes, there's holes in the floor of heaven and she's watching over…me."_  
-Steve Wariner  
-Holes in the Floor of Heaven

It was many years before Anne was sent to Earth again. But this time she was not allowed to be seen, a fact which broke her heart for she was to watch over her daughter, to guide Elizabeth through a time that was sure to prove trying - all without being seen. Anne would have given anything for her daughter to be allowed to see her, but it was strictly forbidden.

Lady Mary, daughter of the Princess Dowager of Wales, was Queen of England, and believed recent Protestant rebellions had been orchestrated by her half-sister and had decided that Elizabeth was to be locked away in the Tower. When Anne appeared, the Guards were already on their way, one of Elizabeth's ladies was rushing to warn her mistress, and Anne's poor daughter was completely unaware of what awaited her, content to dance with a man that Anne, for reasons she was not sure she even knew, immediately did not like.

"My Lady! My Lady!"

Elizabeth's lady had reached the door, but was too late. The Guards were directly behind her and Elizabeth had no chance of escaping. Anne, however, had not wanted her to escape. She'd seen what Mary had done to other Protestants and feared that, if Elizabeth escaped and was caught, worse things would be done to her daughter.

"Princess Elizabeth!" the Earl of Sussex shouted, drawing Elizabeth's attention away from her dance partner. Her dance partner exited the stone edifice - which Anne remembered to be Hatfield - first, but Elizabeth did not. The Earl of Sussex shouted again, but a bit more forceful this time, "Princess Elizabeth!"

' _Go on, Sweetheart; it will be all right._ ' Anne tried to say to her daughter, but if Elizabeth heard her mother, she gave no indication. This time, however, she came when she was called. When she was fully in the view of the Earl of Sussex and the other Guards, Lord Sussex informed her of why they were there.

"You are accused of conspiring with Sir Thomas Wyatt and others against Her Sovereign Majesty and are arrested for treason," he informed with little emotion. "I am commanded to take you hence from this place to the Tower."

The man with whom Elizabeth had been dancing came forward towards the Earl, as if he wished to protect her, but Elizabeth stopped him. It seemed Elizabeth was wise enough to know that complying was her best option.

Then he turned to her and calmly said, "Remember who you are. Do not be afraid of them."

Elizabeth looked at him with frightened eyes, allowing him to comfort her. And then he leaned his head close to hers and whispered, "My Lady."

Anne did not like how comfortable this man appeared to be with her daughter, how he spoke to her as one spoke to a lover, but she had more important things to worry about at that moment.

Then they took her.

* * *

It was dark, the night sky destroying all daylight and perpetuating a sense of dread and gloom as Elizabeth was escorted by boat through the Tower's gate. Severed heads hung about the walls, serving as a warning to all traitors, showing what happened to those who were disloyal to the Crown. ' _Stay calm, Elizabeth. Stay calm, my darling girl._ '

The boat came to a halt in front of stone steps, leading to the Tower itself. A man commanded, "Prisoner to the steps." and Elizabeth was taken out of the boat and to a room for interrogation. They demanded many answers of her, things that were - for the most part - completely irrelevant to charges she faced. Finally, as Anne knew they would, they demanded that Elizabeth confess to her crime, promising she would go free if she would only comply.

' _No, Elizabeth! Confess to nothing! They are lying!_ '

Anne was still not sure if Elizabeth could hear her, but she still seemed to obey every order her mother gave.

"I cannot confess to something I did not do!"

The men circled around her like sharks, waiting for the opportune moment to sink their filthy, leech-like teeth into her, waiting for her to say something - anything that could condemn her. The Earl of Sussex came close to her face, trying to break her demeanor with idle threats, "Your denials are all in vain!"

Another man with a harsh voice tried to pressure her as well, "You know of the rebellion, Madam. You were party to it! It is plain enough."

"Where is your proof?" Elizabeth asked, turning to face the Earl of Sussex.

"It was to your advantage."

"You must let me see the Queen. I must - "

The man with the harsh voice cut her off, "You despise the Queen and the Catholic faith!"

Elizabeth sighed, shaking her head and placing her hands together as if in prayer, apparently trying to calm herself. She placed her hands back down in her lap and stared at the wall in front of her to keep her focus.

"I am a true and faithful subject. I attend Mass - "

The harsh-voiced man cut her off again, "You pretend, but in your heart…"

Elizabeth shook her head, whispering so silently that none could hear her words clearly. The Earl of Sussex demanded, "What's that? What say you, Madam? Speak up!"

A man with a much kinder voice urged her, "Madam, if there is some small truth in these charges, however innocently or unknowingly you did proceed, you had best confess."

Anne rolled her eyes. They were trying to trick her into confessing, admitting that - even if she did so unwillingly - she was guilty of the charges.

' _No, Elizabeth. Don't listen to him._ '

"I ask you why we must tear ourselves apart for this small question of religion. Catholic and Protestant - "

"Small? You think it small, though it killed your mother?"

Anne's breath caught in her throat. Eighteen years had passed since her death and they  _still_  talked of her? And in such a manner? In front of her daughter? Elizabeth was visibly speechless, and slightly paler than she was just moments ago. She began looking around the room at all of her interrogators.

' _It's all right, Sweetheart, I'm here now._ '

"We all…" Elizabeth tried to speak, "We all believe in God, My Lords."

"No, Madam. There is only one  _true_  belief. The other, heresy."

Apparently, they'd had enough of interrogating her, and escorted her forcibly to her dungeon chambers. As Anne caught a glimpse of Elizabeth's chambers just before she was called back to Heaven, she was disheartened to discover that the title of Princess did not allow for more comfortable accommodations, like the title of Queen did.

* * *

Anne was unsure how much time had passed before she was permitted to Earth with her daughter once more. Elizabeth had been taken from her chambers and escorted, by Royal Guard, to the Queen's residence at Court. Frightened by the terrors she had seen on her journey, she entered into the room cautiously, closing the secret door with a deafening click. Unsure where the Queen was, but fully aware that Mary was hidden somewhere within the room, Elizabeth dropped into a deep bow and swore her loyalty.

"I am Your Majesty's most humble servant," she stated, her voice quivering slightly. When her half-sister entered the room, Elizabeth began to stand but then thought better of it.

Taking a seat at the circular table in the room and drawing a piece of parchment from it, the Queen commanded, "Come here. Closer, so I might see your face."

Elizabeth did as she was told, kneeling when she was in front of the Queen. Setting the parchment down, Mary grabbed her chin and examined her features, a grudging look plastered about her own.

Pushing Elizabeth's face away, Mary scoffed, "When I look at you, I see nothing of the King, only that whore, your mother. Hmm. My father never did anything so well as to cut off her head."

Anne's temper threatened to flare dangerously at the spoiled bastard before her daughter, and she could feel the same tensions rising within Elizabeth. Remembering her mission, Anne urged, ' _Remain calm, my sweet Elizabeth. Do not be intemperate._ '

Elizabeth closed her eyes, apparently in an attempt to calm herself, and replied, "Your Majesty forgets he was also my father."

Mary did not like hearing this, and she repositioned her hands, obviously uncomfortable. Apparently Mary had neither the thought nor the talent of hiding her emotions, as her mother had mastered so gracefully when she was alive. Then she spoke, changing the subject, "Why will you not confess your crimes against me?"

"Because, Your Majesty, I have committed none."

The Queen had an air of insanity about her, as if she were being pushed to the edge of her tranquility. She moved like she meant to weep, but then thought better of it, responding, "You speak with such sincerity. I see you are still a consummate actress."

"My husband is gone," she continued, getting from her seat, no longer able to conceal her troubling nerves. "They have poisoned my child. They say it is a tumor."

Surprisingly, Anne actually felt a bit sympathy for the pretending sovereign.

When the Queen sobbed, Elizabeth rose and pronounced, "Madam, you are not well."

"They say this cancer will make you Queen, but they are wrong! Look there!" Mary shouted, pointing towards the parchment she'd held earlier. "It is your death warrant. All I need do is sign it."

Mary had hastened towards Elizabeth in her shouting, and Elizabeth's face had blanched. Anne was, while unnecessary, attempting to breathe, murderous thoughts plaguing her mind.

"Mary, if you sign that paper, you will be murdering your own sister."

' _Clever girl_ ,' Anne remarked.

Mary kneeled down to meet with Elizabeth's already kneeling eyes. "You will promise me something?"

As if in affirmation, Elizabeth kissed her sister's hands, after which Mary continued, "When I am gone, you will do everything in your power to uphold the Catholic faith. Do not take away from the people the consolations of the Blessed Virgin, their Holy Mother."

' _Promise nothing which compromises you!_ ' Anne warned her daughter as Elizabeth smiled.

"When I am Queen," Elizabeth began, "I promise…to act as my conscience dictates."

"Well, do not think to be Queen at all! You may return to your own house at Hatfield, but you will remain there under arrest until I am recovered."

"Thank you, Your Majesty," Elizabeth said, rising and beginning to make her way to the secret door once more, but Mary stopped her.

"No. Feed her to the wolves. Let her see what they are like," Mary said with a slight chuckle.

Anne had meant to help her daughter, but she was called away again, forced to return to Heaven. She would later be told that Elizabeth had to learn to survive the Court on her own…

* * *

Elizabeth sat alone this time when Anne arrived. She look deep in thought, as if she were contemplating something of grave importance. Immediately Anne's ears were enfolded in the sound of large bells ringing out, much like they did for the birth of an heir, a royal wedding or…the death of a monarch! Gasping, Anne looked to her daughter and understood her demeanor. Mary was dead, this was true, but Elizabeth's fate was still so uncertain. Nothing would be assured until the Queen's crown rest on her head, and even then things were still ambiguous.

Her ladies rushed into the room, excitement plainly etched onto their features. They all dropped into quick curtseys before one spoke up - the same lady who had tried to warn Elizabeth of the guards that had come to arrest her.

"My lady, the Earl of Sussex is here."

Elizabeth's face was etched with shock and a slight mix of fear. She raised herself from her seat, walking to the door and grabbing the woman's hand for support. Anne quickly followed behind them, hoping beyond hope that she was right.

They gathered under a large oak tree. The Earl of Sussex and those who had accompanied him, along with Elizabeth's ladies, were amassed in a semicircle around her. Swiftly, the Earl of Sussex approached Anne's daughter and bowed before her as he presented her with the Queen's ring, which she accepted with shaking hands. Then he stepped away from her.

"The Queen is dead," the Earl of Sussex shouted, "Long live the Queen!"

Everyone joined in and shouted in unison, "Long live the Queen!" And then they all bowed to Elizabeth, daughter of King Henry VIII - a lustful lecher and murderer - and Queen Anne Boleyn - a convicted whore and traitor - and, most importantly, Elizabeth, Queen of England. Though her daughter could not see her, Anne bowed lower than all of them, her heart bursting with pride and emotion. It was a glorious day, indeed.

Elizabeth could think of nothing to say, so she recited a Biblical quote instead, "This is the Lord's doing, and it is marvelous in our eyes."

Elizabeth had not needed her mother's guidance that day, but God and the Angels had decided to permit Anne to be in attendance for this wondrous event.

* * *

Anne was also allowed to be at her daughter's coronation, something she would not have missed for the world. Henry was there as well, as he had been for the coronations of all his children. Anne could only hope he felt as much pride for Elizabeth as she did.

"To the north, I present to you Elizabeth, your undoubted Queen," a man Anne did not recognise declared, holding the Queen's coronet to the North, before he continued. "To the south, I present to you Elizabeth, your undoubted Queen."

Westminster was full of people gathered to see the coronation of their new Queen. The choir sang beautifully as Anne's daughter - her  _beautiful_  daughter - walked the long walk to dais upon which her throne awaited. Her ladies held the long train of her gown, her hair was worn long and cascading down her back, boasting her innocence. When she reached the dais, she ascended the steps, her ladies moving from her, and sat on her throne.

The Archbishop, standing before the people and holding the crown high above him, proclaimed in a steady voice, "I crown thee Elizabeth, Queen of England, Ireland and France."

And then he bestowed the coronet - finally! - on her head and gave Elizabeth her scepter, after which he continued, "God save Your Majesty."

Anne and Henry stayed for the entire coronation and, when everyone exited the Abbey, they remained inside. Henry approached her awkwardly, giving a courteous nod when he reached her. They stood before each other in silence for many moments before Henry collected the courage to speak at last.

"Anne, are you happy?"

She could not help but smile and nod, giggling as she responded, "I am the most happy."

"I am glad," Henry said, smiling back at her and returning her enthusiasm. Then he grabbed her hand, not caring to ask for permission, and kissed it ceremoniously, and then they disappeared together.


	4. Part IV: Reunion

" _She had such power over men's hearts. They died for her."  
_ _-Queen Elizabeth I  
_ _-Elizabeth_  


" _They have found nothing to replace her."  
_ _-Sir Francis Walsingham  
_ _-Elizabeth_  


Anne's pride in Elizabeth had never once had cause to falter. Elizabeth, now formally recognised as Queen Elizabeth I of England, Ireland, and France, had all the best aspects of her father and her mother. She was the image of her mother, except in the colour of her eyes and her hair - which were those of her father. Her demeanor was sharp and her wit was well-practised. She was a gentle queen, much loved and she had made it her life's ambition to truly earn that love. Lands across the sea were being claimed in her honour and named Virginia after England's Virgin Queen and Anne's delight swelled with each passing year.

However, Elizabeth's abstinence of marriage unnerved Anne and she felt that the blame for the Queen's marital status fully belonged on her head. In the hours before her death, she penned a letter to her then infant daughter warning her not to love or trust unless such love or trust was rightfully earned. Had it been her mother's words that caused Elizabeth's reluctance to marry? Anne worried, like many of Elizabeth's advisors - much to the chagrin of their Queen, what would happen to England if Elizabeth remained unmarried and childless when such a time came that God called her home.

But the Queen, despite her refusal to seek out a companion to rule by her side, seemed to be a happy and carefree spirit, enjoying the same activities at Court that Anne and Henry had. While Anne would certainly have been appalled, she would not have been altogether surprised if she learned that Elizabeth had attempted to or succeeded in competing in a joust - so blithe was Elizabeth's persona. Elizabeth's ability for mirth magnified Anne's pride even more, making her wish that she had been more like her daughter during her life.

Elizabeth's hurricane allowed Anne's fire to remain lit.

Anne's fire, however, threatened to be extinguished when the English Navy faced the Spanish Armada. She was allowed to return to Earth once more to witness the battle, though the sight of the many ships before her was frightening. The sound of canon fire enveloped her ears, only serving to multiply her fear more. How could Elizabeth and her forces, which were composed of some three thousand men, defeat the Spanish Armada, composed of ten thousand men and aided by the Duke of Parma who had fifteen thousand men lying in wait on the French coast? It seemed in every way impossible that England would succeed.

Many ships were lost, many lives claimed by the Spanish. Anne's paranoia was heightened when she realised just how close in proximity Elizabeth had come to the fighting. She had known, of course, that the Monarch traditionally went into battle with their troops, but Anne had hoped that an exception would be made for her daughter, even if it was her daughter who insisted on being present - though, she hated to admit, she had much difficulty trying to come up with a truly logical reason why Elizabeth should not be there.

In the face of all the adversity, it was wondrous to behold the sight of the Spanish ships burning and plunging into the sea. Magnificent was the thought and realisation that Elizabeth had won, that the Spanish Armada had been destroyed by her daughter's hands.

No amount of tears shed, nor words spoken could have possibly expressed Anne's pride in her daughter at that very moment.

* * *

Anne cried when they told her.

She would never be certain why. It could have been for sorrow and the pain of knowing her daughter lived no more; it could have been for joy and the knowledge that they would soon meet again. Anne was nervous, too. What if Elizabeth did not react positively to their reunion; what if she, like many in England, believed the charges brought against Anne and had grown up hating her mother?

Anne did not have much time to dwell on these fears, though.

She found herself manifesting in the Queen's bedchamber, appearing in a silver haze. The room, while not the same that she had inhabited, was beautiful and ornate. Elegant tapestries hung on the walls, and portraits of Elizabeth at varying ages were scattered throughout the room. The centre of the room boasted a beautiful wooden bed, surrounded by Ladies-in-Waiting and Elizabeth's priest and chamberlain.

"She looks so peaceful," one of the ladies cried, "like she's sleeping."

Anne peered around the mass of people, curiosity winning against her desire to abstain from glancing at her daughter's lifeless form. She was soothed to see that Elizabeth did indeed look peaceful. There were many lines etched into her face, showing that the Queen of England had died an old woman. Somehow the knowledge that she remained unmarried and without child did not bother Anne anymore. She assumed that it was because Elizabeth had surpassed all expectations; as a girl, it was not fully anticipated that she would rule England and it would certainly never have been dreamed that she would rule with no husband by her side. Elizabeth had brought about the Golden Age and Anne knew it would be said that she had been the best monarch England had known to date.

Suddenly, Elizabeth's body was enshrouded in millions of tiny gold orbs. The orbs rose up into the air and began to swirl in front of Anne, taking the shape of a human figure. Slowly, the orbs began to mold themselves together into an almost tangible visage of Elizabeth in her prime. She looked just as she had when Anne had been allowed to come to Earth to see her daughter and to guide her during the tough time she'd had when Mary was Queen.

Though she had seen this image of Elizabeth before, Anne took a sharp breath and smiled; Elizabeth was beautiful, almost ethereal.

Just as Elizabeth began to peer around the room - confused, the Priest spoke somberly to no one in particular, "Order the bells to be sounded. The Queen is dead."

A look of shock became plastered to Elizabeth's features and Anne responded by holding out her hands, offering, "Come, Elizabeth. We have much to discuss."

Elizabeth did not take her hands as Anne had hoped, but fell to the floor in a shallow curtsey instead, her angelic voice piercing Anne's soul, "Your Majesty."

"No," Anne declared resolutely, denying her much-loved title in favour of one she had yearned for so many years to hear. "Just Mama."

Anne's fears were beginning to dwindle; by her actions, Elizabeth seemed to harbour no resentment for her mother. Elizabeth, with a smile, finally took her mother's hands and together they disappeared in a swirl of gold and silver orbs. They reappeared in the gardens of Hampton Court, just mere steps away from the fountain they had played around when Elizabeth was a girl. A smile of Anne's own resurfaced when she saw the delight on her daughter's face. Without saying a word, they sat on the edge of the fountain and Elizabeth danced her fingers across the water's surface. It was a peaceful silence between them, both mother and daughter content to simply enjoy the other's company - a luxury robbed of them in life.

"I never believed it," Elizabeth said softly, as if she was afraid to broach the subject that lingered in both of their minds.

Anne glanced quickly at her daughter, shamefully admitting her worries, "I feared so much that you did."

"How could I? You were my mother, how could I imagine such wickedness in you?"

"I don't suppose you could," Anne smiled.

Elizabeth hesitated a moment before she continued, "I don't think he ever really got over you."

"Oh?" Anne's eyebrows perked up, intrigued.

"Once…Mistress Seymour...died," Elizabeth paused cautiously when she danced warily around Jane Seymour's name, as if she were afraid of offending her mother by mentioning the name of the woman who had brought about her downfall, "he did not marry again immediately, but he had many mistresses - all of them having aspects which favoured yours. Even in his succeeding marriages, he took women that had your characteristics - be they aesthetic or behavioral - to his bed. Rumour has it that those who were more like you lasted for quite some time, though never as long as you did."

Anne was not sure how she felt about this knowledge, but she tried not to dwell on it. Sensing her mother's mood change some, Elizabeth removed her hand from the water's surface and entwined it with Anne's.

"Why did you never marry?" Anne asked, genuinely curious and partially concerned.

"I was afraid to," Elizabeth conceded. "My father was married six times, and ordered the deaths of two of his wives. Both executions occurred during my lifetime and one of them was my mother. I did not trust marriage."

Anne squeezed Elizabeth's hand, hoping to return a sense of happiness to their conversation.

"I did love a man once and I was fond of a man many years after that, but both men belonged to other women. They were not mine to keep."

Elizabeth kept silent after that. Her demeanor was pensive, as if she were reflecting back on her life and thinking of how she had wished things would have gone. Anne smiled half-heartedly, reaching a hand up to push a loose strand of hair behind her daughter's ear.

"It does not do to dwell on the past," she said with a tut, "particularly after one has died. We have what matters now. We are together now."

"Yes, we are," Elizabeth agreed. "And the Lord knows how much I've missed you."

"Yes, and He also knows how much I missed you. He let me return to Earth and guide you often."

"There were many times that I thought I sensed your presence," Elizabeth admitted with a smile. "I always loved it; it was as if you were always with me and never truly gone."

" _My darling daughter_ ," Anne smiled widely, quoting the letter she had penned for Elizabeth just before her death, "I was  _always_  with you. You were never truly without me."

Both women smiled and resumed their comforting silence. They remained like that for what could have been hours, or an eternity - together agreeing in a piece of knowledge they had learned over the years. Life is always fickle and only one thing is really ever certain: no matter how greatly, or poorly, you have lived, you will die - as all humans must - and those who have been lost before will always be waiting on the other side.

**THE END**


End file.
